


Food You'll Never Eat

by AdrianaintheSnow



Series: Is There Anything Left of Patton? [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: ...ish, A little lighter than the last two parts??, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, If you forget the horrifying painful death that lead to it, Logan still cries, M/M, Past Character Death, Patton is dead (?), Zombie Patton is kinda funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianaintheSnow/pseuds/AdrianaintheSnow
Summary: And was this cruel, Virgil had to wonder, to the man that Patton used to be? To the men they both used to be? To drag what was left of Patton back into the world of the living? To tie him down to the couch he once picked out himself? To let him look blankly out the window into a world he’d never be a part of again? Virgil was not sure. He just knew that usually when Logan and Patton were in the same room together, Virgil could feel the heartbreak and mourning drowning them all.This though? This was almost,almost, funny.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Is There Anything Left of Patton? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639429
Comments: 26
Kudos: 198





	Food You'll Never Eat

Convincing Logan to bring Patton upstairs had been frustratingly difficult considering how badly Logan clearly wanted it. It had not been helped by the fact that Virgil had snuck around behind his back to do something “objectively stupid.” (Hypocritical considering how Logan had snuck around behind his back for months and went into the cage many times to do said “objectively stupid” thing himself. But, you know. Whatever.)

“I tested it with a rat first,” Virgil had defended himself, shaking the cage he’d been holding, “Luckily for Nibbles, Patton isn’t interested in live meat.”

“Luckily for _you_ ,” had been the retort.

It had led to a series of arguments over the next couple of weeks with interactions such as…

“Why would you even want to do that?”

“I wanted to know. Sue me for wanting to be aware if there was ticking time bomb in the basement that could come and bite me in the ass at any moment. Literally.”

and…

“Well, I’ve kinda grown to like Patton.”

“Patton’s a zombie! He might as well be that chair.”

“Look I’m not going to listen to a lecture on my attachment issues by a guy who keeps his dead boyfriend’s corpse in his basement.”

and…

“He might be more comfortable up here.”

“Patton isn’t going to be comfortable anywhere ever again.”

“But what’s left of him might be.”

“…”

It was still a trial run. Neither of them was exactly going to sleep with Patton upstairs, and so Logan always wrestled him back downstairs at night. During the day, they didn’t let him freely roam the house; they’d finagled him what was basically a man-sized toddler leash. He… did not seem to like the leash. He tried to yank on it every time they pulled him around on it, but he never managed to think about using the simple clasp to get out of it even after he saw Virgil and Logan use it multiple times. He didn’t even seem to understand that Virgil and Logan were the source of the tugging, simply turning his ire on the belt itself.

He was all instinct. Struggle against things that pulled on you, grab for things that moved or made sound, eat things that your body wanted to eat. There was no more thought put into his actions than Virgil put into the act of breathing.

Virgil had secretly hope that brining him upstairs into what was once his home and not keeping him completely restrained all the time would make him act… he didn’t know… more human? Like, maybe there’d be a spark of recognition in his eyes when he saw his old bedroom, or he’d want to reach out for one of the stuffed animals Logan set out for him. But he just didn’t. He reacted, but only on the most basic levels. He would hear Logan or Virgil speak, but what they said made no difference. He would watch them move, sometimes getting up from the couch or chair they’d attached him to in order to follow them and then blindly swiping the leash when it pulled him back. Yet, he’d react the same way if they threw something large enough or if he caught site of an animal outside the window. He would reach and reach for them, but whatever it was his zombie brain seemed to want, he would never find it.

The only time he took any initiative was when there was food in the area and god was Virgil glad that he and Logan apparently did not register as food to the guy because holy fuck. The first time Virgil had seen him eat a potato, he’d almost thrown up. Like, the meat was one thing. He’d been prepared for the meat. It was fine, but the potato? He shuddered in memory even now. His mind could just not accept it. Also, he was also absolutely unstoppable when food was in the area. They had quickly learned to not attempt to cook or eat anything the zombie found palatable with him in reaching distance because, whatever it was, would be going into his mouth, no argument to be had.

Yet, despite it all, Virgil could not regret bringing him up here. Perhaps there was nothing of a person left under all of that instinct, but he still seemed calmer upstairs. Virgil was fairly certain it had more to do with the lack of restraints than the fact that his surroundings were nicer. While he pulled against the leash sometimes, it was easy for him to forget about it. He didn’t breathe quite as heavily or make as many sickening noises. He still tried to grab them when they were near, much like other zombies did (just without the biting), but it seemed just a touch less desperate.

Then there was Logan. Virgil felt a bit conflicted about Logan. He clearly wanted Patton upstairs, but at the same time, Virgil often caught him looking at the zombie wistfully. Logan was sadder when he was upstairs, but at least he was emoting something. He was less blank and emotionless. He tended to talk more even if those words were almost always tinged with melancholy. When Logan looked at Patton, he clearly could see that he wasn’t the man he loved anymore, but he was something.

And was this cruel, Virgil had to wonder, to the man that Patton used to be? To the men they both used to be? To drag what was left of Patton back into the world of the living? To tie him down to the couch he once picked out himself? To let him look blankly out the window into a world he’d never be a part of again? Virgil was not sure. He just knew that usually when Logan and Patton were in the same room together, Virgil could feel the heartbreak and mourning drowning them all.

This though? This was almost, _almost,_ funny.

“What did… what did you _do_ to my dining room?” Logan asked aghast when he walked downstairs to see what looked to be going on two dozen plates and bowls of barely touched food haphazardly stacked across the table, something red (distinctly not blood thankfully) all over Virgil and the carpet, and silverware and cups on the floor.

“Patton and I are trying different foods,” Virgil said as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “He really did not like the tomato soup.”

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “He is clearly an obligatory carnivore. What is the point of this?”

Virgil didn’t answer him. Instead, he set down yet another plate in front of Patton. Logan bristled a bit at the dismissal. “I heard your no on tomatoes loud and clear buddy,” he addressed Patton. “So, maybe we should stick with root vegetables from the oven. I present for your culinary experience, oven roasted carrots.” Patton stared straight forward, not even looking at the plate. “Please dude. I can’t take the only eating potatoes thing. I really can’t. It’s going to drive me bonkers.”

“This is completely unnecessary and ridiculous,” Logan hissed.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do with him Logan?” Virgil asked. “It’s not like we can play chess or have an invigorating conversation about the meaning of the universe.”

“You’re not supposed to _do_ anything with him,” Logan snapped. “He’s not a person anymore. He’s not even a pet. He’s lawn furniture that can walk. He’s a fucking corpse that just isn’t in the ground yet.”

“Then why is he here Logan?”

“Because you wanted to bring him up from the basement!” Patton turned at his increased volume and stumbled to his feet to paw at Logan. Logan pushed him firmly away, but he just kept coming.

“No. If that’s what you think,” Virgil said. “then why is he _here,_ Logan?”

“Because,” Logan shut his mouth. He grabbed Patton’s wrist in his hand to keep it from him and looked away from them both. “Because I love him,” Logan said. He squeezed the hand and got nothing in return. “Because I love him and he’s not here anymore. Sometimes I find myself pretending, but I know he’s not.” he looked up to stare into Patton’s blank eyes. There was no spark to them, and there was no emotion on the face that used to be so open and dynamic. He used to always smile and joke and offer soft touches. Now there was nothing left but the way he struggled to grab at Logan’s face. “Yet…” he continued. “There is something there. Just… just a little piece. Not nearly him, but something. I can’t… I can’t let him go.” He roughly used his unoccupied hand to wipe a tear that had leaked out of one of his eyes away. “And he’s not a toy. He may not be a person anymore, but he was once.”

“I…” Virgil said softly, “I know that Lo. I’m not playing games with him, I swear. I just thought maybe he’d like some other food. Might as well give him things he likes, right?”

Logan let out a soft sob against his will and Virgil’s arms went carefully around him even as the new sound renewed Patton’s efforts to get to him. “I would have let him kill me,” Logan divulged. “When I found him. He was trapped and I knew he wasn’t there anymore, but I let him loose because I knew I couldn’t kill him or leave him there. I couldn’t live without him.”

“Oh Logan,” Virgil sighed. Logan turned from Patton into Virgil’s chest and Virgil rubbed his back as he cried even when Patton started up the grabbing at the back of his head now that he was released. After a few moments, Logan managed to wrestled control over himself.

He stepped back and started to push Patton back toward the chair he’d been sitting in. He aimlessly shoved back. “That’s how I figured out he wouldn’t hurt me,” he told Virgil. He finally got Patton shoved back into the chair. “You’d never hurt me, would you dear?” There was no answer from Patton except to wiggle against the hold, but then again, he’d already answered that question, hadn’t he? He answered it every moment of every day that the mindless husk of himself never tried to harm Logan. He answered it right now when all he did was push against the arms restraining him and never tilted his head down to bite.

Logan knew, logically, it was probably only some kink in the code of whatever virus or parasite the disease was, but some part of him couldn’t help but think that maybe just a part of it was an echo of the man he loved.

Patton gave up the struggle to get back up eventually, more forgetting than relenting. There were a few more moments of silence and then Logan turned to Virgil and forced a small smile. “So, what are you going to try to feed him next? Just a warning, he didn’t care for tomatoes when he was _alive._ ”

“I really wish you’d told me that before he sprayed soup everywhere.”

“How exactly did that happen?”

“I tried to spoon feed him and he must have not liked the smell or the touch of the metal on his lips because he slapped the spoon away. His arm hit the bowl too and I got surprised and knocked over some glasses.”

Logan found himself chuckling. “That’s surprisingly in character for Patton,” he said. “Once we talked about his dislike for tomatoes and he told me that he was fine with cooked ones meaning, of course, in spaghetti sauce or on pizza but hated them raw. So, I cooked him grilled whole tomatoes. He threw them at me.”

Virgil laughed with him. “Well, maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. What did he like to eat?”

Logan hummed. “He would eat dill pickles straight from the jar. I’d call him a heathen and try to take them away from him.”

“You’re the heathen; dill pickles are good.”

“Disgusting,” Logan replied. “He also had a sweet tooth. Particularly for snickerdoodle cookies.”

“Hmm,” Virgil said, “alright. So, we’ll work with the cucumber family and sugar and see where it goes.”

Patton did eat two pickles on his own power later that day. It was… not any more pleasant to watch than the potatoes.


End file.
